


Champagne Room

by ClaraxBarton



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: 1x3 - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:16:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2609867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraxBarton/pseuds/ClaraxBarton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heero is forced to take Duo's place on an undercover mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Champagne Room

Gratuitous Birthday smut for Greeneyes-Softsighs

Warnings: smut, language  
Pairings: 1x3

Champagne Room

 

Heero could count on one hand the number of times Duo had been ill over the past ten years, and two of those times had been when he came down with something after drinking the local water while on assignment on M2367, when he should have known better. One of the other times - when Duo had had a fever high enough to be delirious and managed to get out of going to the damn annual Prev ball, Heero had been sure he was faking it, sure he had found some way to rig the thermometer. Once he had had the flu, had shown up to work looking pale and slightly green and spent three hours alternating between filling out paperwork and puking out his guts before Wufei had Une send him home.   
And then there had been today.  
Today, when Wufei showed up in Heero’s cubicle with a grim expression and instructed him to check his email.  
Heero hadn’t known what it was about at first, and so of course he had thought the worst - had assumed there was some news about -  
But no.  
It was an email from Une, regarding Duo and his illness. He had e. Coli, had been hospitalized yesterday after Wufei dragged him to the doctor.  
“E. Coli?” Heero asked Wufei.  
The dark eyed man scowled.  
“The idiot’s been sick for a week already, probably caught it when he was on M5699 for the last check in.”  
Heero frowned.  
“The next check in - who’s going if Duo is sick?”  
Wufei arched an eyebrow.  
“Not me. I’ve been banned from undercover work.”  
Heero tried to think of any other agents who could - or should go.   
Duo had been the contact, Duo had been the trusted one and the best at that kind of undercover work and now he was sick.  
“We can’t just wait until Duo recovers to make contact.”  
“I know.”  
Wufei looked expectant, and it finally hit Heero.  
“No.”  
“Who else? You want Jones to go?”  
Heero sure as hell did not want Jones to go. He didn’t trust Jones to find his own ass in a dark room, let alone act as a liaison for a deep cover agent.  
He racked his brain. Surely, someone -   
“Vance just got back from Seoul,” Wufei mused.  
Heero gave Wufei a dark look.  
He trusted Vance - hell, Vance was probably one of the best undercover agents the Preventers had - but Vance’s face was scarred from an explosion during the war, and his large, beefy body wasn’t right, would never work for this assignment.  
Heero groaned.  
“Tell Duo I’m going to murder him for this.”  
“As soon as he drags himself out of his death bed, I’ll be sure to do that,” Wufei murmured.  
Heero felt a moment of guilt.  
“That bad?”  
Wufei rolled his eyes.  
“Bad enough for him to bitch and moan and refuse to stay hydrated. He’ll be fine.”  
Heero nodded. And then he sighed.  
“The rendezvous is tomorrow isn’t it?”  
Wufei nodded in agreement.  
That meant Heero needed to catch the next shuttle to M5699. But first…  
“I need clothes,” Heero admitted.  
Wufei reached behind him and passed Heero a duffel bag.  
Heero arched an eyebrow.  
Wufei shrugged.  
“I knew you were going to have to do it. Might as well be prepared.”

-o-

The shuttle flight was uneventful and Heero was able to use the time to catch a nap and to go over the exhaustive notes Duo emailed him regarding the rendezvous protocol.  
It had taken a few years for Heero to realize that Duo, out of all of them, was the most detail oriented aside from Trowa. Duo was meticulous in his reports, going into exhaustive descriptions in case any information could prove useful and almost always it did.  
So Heero memorized all of the information Duo sent, no matter how trivial it seemed, because more than once Duo had described a two inch long tattoo or scar on a perp that had led to his arrest.  
Of course, Heero wasn’t memorizing the identifying features of possible perps. He was memorizing code words and lap dance routines and wishing to hell that this was all some extremely strange dream that he would wake up from.  
But it wasn’t, and when the shuttle landed on M5699 Heero found the dive of a hotel that Duo recommended. Duo had also recommended that he shave - everywhere - and with great resentment and mental images of ways to get back at Duo for this - Heero did so.  
Smooth and completely hairless from the head down, Heero looked in the fogged bathroom mirror at himself and had to shake his head.  
He had never had chest hair, not more than a few dark hairs across his pectorals, but his groin and legs looked completely different, as though they belonged to someone else.   
With a sigh, he changed into the first of two outfits in Duo’s duffel.  
A tight, black v-neck t-shirt and well worn black leather pants were the first ensemble, and as uncomfortable as Heero felt wearing his best friend’s clothing, he knew it was only going to get worse.  
He glanced inside the duffel, at the other costume, at the glimmer of rhinestones and satin and he swallowed hard.   
When they had set up this rendezvous months ago, when they had decided it was the safest way to make contact and pass along intel, Heero had never, not for one second, considered that he might one day have to take Duo’s place and put on this costume and… perform.  
But now, here he was, hefting the duffel over his shoulder and making his way to the seedy club two blocks from the hotel and reviewing his cover story.  
The Corner Hole.  
A seedy club that made absolutely no effort to hide the fact that it was a brothel only vaguely disguised as a strip joint.  
Heero went in through the back door and tried not to think about the fact that Duo had made a joke about that in his notes, hadn’t been able to resist the juvenile humor even as he was meticulously listing out all of the things Heero needed to know so that he didn’t get himself arrested or killed.  
Just inside the back entrance he encountered a bouncer, a large, round man with an angry face and a thin blonde goatee that did nothing to enhance his features.  
“Joe,” Heero knew his name, from Duo’s description.  
The bouncer arched an eyebrow at him and crossed his arms.  
“You know me?”  
“I know Jack,” Heero said.   
Joe smiled.  
“How’s my man doing?” Joe checked his watch. “His shift started a few minutes ago -where’s he at?”  
“Sick,” Heero said, the truth convenient for once.   
“Sick? Shit - how sick? He going to be okay? He seemed fine last time I saw him last week.”  
“He’ll be fine. Some intestinal thing. Puking up his guts and bitching like there’s no tomorrow right now though.”  
Joe chuckled.  
“Sounds like Jack. Such a whiner.”  
Heero nodded in agreement, even though it was far from the truth. Hell, he’d held Duo in his arms as he almost bled out from a gunshot wound in his liver and he hadn’t said a single thing about the pain, had just laid there and argued with Heero about leaving him and finishing the mission.  
“Who’re you?” Joe seemed to remember that he did not know Heero.  
“I’m Alex, his roommate. He mentioned me - he said he did? Said I worked over at Rosie’s and wanted to try this place out instead.”  
Joe sneered.  
“Rosie’s is a shit hole. Trashy place.”  
Heero nodded in agreement and forced himself to not arch an eyebrow.   
Joe looked him over.  
“I don’t remember him mentioning you, but… hell, when Jack talks you just gotta tune him out sometimes, you know? Kid can go on for hours. I think the only time he ever shuts up is when there’s a dick in his mouth.”  
Heero nodded in agreement once again, even though he internally disagreed once again.  
“Yeah, okay. I guess you can cover his shift and we’ll see how you work out. Dressing room’s back that way,” Joe jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Go ahead and get dressed and I’ll go talk to the man.”  
“Thanks. I appreciate this chance.”  
“No problem. I owe Jack a few favors anyway.”   
Heero did arch an eyebrow at that, and he had to wonder… Duo and this guy?  
Joe saw his look and laughed.  
“No! Not like that. Shit. I’m straight. Nah, Jack helped me fix my bike a month ago - guy’s a damn good mechanic.”  
“He is,” Heero agreed with a sigh. That, at least, they could actually agree on.  
Joe wandered off and Heero went down the hall and into the dressing room that Joe had indicated.  
One side of the room had a row of rusty, ancient lockers and on the opposite wall was a long counter littered with makeup and accessories. The wall above the counter was all mirror, and Heero shook his head at his reflection.  
If Duo could see him now, he’d laugh his ass off.  
Heero sighed and opened up the duffel bag and reminded himself that, all things considered, it could be worse.  
He didn’t have to kill anyone.  
He didn’t have to infiltrate a military installation and kill people with his bare hands.  
He didn’t have to risk killing civilians while piloting a mobile suit.  
He didn’t have to follow orders and self destruct.  
All he had to do was put on fishnets, panties, a garter belt and a bra and parade around like a prostitute for a few hours.

-o-

He was grateful that Duo wore knee high boots, even more grateful that they had a wide, platform heel that while not easy to walk in, wasn’t going to be too bad for him to negotiate.  
Once he had dressed he stared at himself in the mirror and he tried to imagine what Odin Lowe, his onetime mentor, would say if he could see him now.  
He’d trained Heero to be a deadly assassin, to complete the mission by whatever means necessary, but Heero felt confident Odin would not approve of his current attire. Not in the least.  
The bra was blue satin with rhinestones and black lace and it matched the panties that were little more than a thong and he had to tell himself to stop trying to adjust them. They were going to ride up his ass no matter what and he needed to just accept that and act natural.  
Natural.  
Duo’s recommendation again, and Heero wondered how the hell natural and a thong up his ass went together but if Duo could do it - Heero drew in a deep breath. If Duo could do it, Heero sure as hell wasn’t going to back down from it.  
He ran a hand through his hair and then forced himself to approach the counter.  
Duo had explained, in detail, what kind of makeup he should wear and had even taken the time email him photographs, the same reference images that he used.  
So Heero very carefully applied the dark eyeshadow, the false eyelashes, the mascara, the dark red lipstick that looked like blood and he stared at himself.  
Or rather, at Alex, because this was not him. This was not Heero.  
His eyes looked enormous, dark and bluer than normal and something about the lipstick made his lips look as though he was pouting.   
All in all, it was… a look he sincerely hoped no one else ever saw him wear ever, ever again.  
He allowed himself one last moment to pull at the costume and then he drew in a deep breath and left the dressing room.  
Duo had explained the club layout precisely, going so far as to tell Heero how many footsteps the bar was from the dressing room, how many steps it would take to get to the front entrance, to the side exit, to the back room where Joe had a gun and a baseball bat stashed.  
As Heero approached the bar he could hear the deep, thumping bass music that Duo had described.  
It’s going to sound like artillery if you close your eyes, so don’t close your eyes and start to count your breathing if you do.  
Heero wondered if Duo knew him that well, or if Duo struggled with the same flashbacks.  
Behind the bar a thin, handsome man with jet black hair styled into a mohawk smirked at Heero’s approach.  
“You must be Alex.”  
Heero nodded.  
“Thomas?” He guessed.  
“Yep. Sorry that Jack isn’t feeling well, but I’m more than happy to give you a try out. He tell you how we do things here?”  
Heero nodded and Thomas looked expectant, ready for Heero to share his supposed knowledge.  
“Lap dances are twenty per song, and they have to pay for a full hour if they want something private, even if they don’t last that long. No kissing.”  
Thomas nodded and pointed towards the stage where a stripper was currently performing.  
“Jack never wanted to pole dance. You?”  
Heero shook his head.  
No. Hell no.  
“Fine. Well, the Champagne Rooms are back that way - we’ve got the cameras on all the time and Joe watches so don’t worry. I hear about the shit that goes on at Rosie’s. We don’t deal with that rough shit over here. But make sure you use the damn condoms, because we get all sorts in here and I sure as hell ain’t responsible for your ass or your dick, got me?”  
Heero nodded, then hesitated.  
“Jack said he never fucked people.”  
Thomas sighed.  
“Yeah. Fine. You at least willing to blow someone?”  
Duo had warned him about this, had said that Thomas made more money off his whores than his strippers and dancers, but he had also said that he refused to have sex or give blowjobs.  
“No. I do that at Rosie’s. Jack said I didn’t have to do that kind of thing here.”  
Thomas scowled.  
“You boys and your precious holes. Fine. You don’t have to - just make sure the Johns know you ain’t going to go all the way so I don’t have to deal with some angry, horny bastard.”  
Heero nodded.  
“Alright. It’s Friday night, so we’ve usually got a few crews that come in to celebrate pay day or whatever. Things’ll pick up in about an hour or so. Make sure your customers drink - the more bottle service you get them to order the better your cut, just remember that.”  
Heero nodded again.  
Thomas looked him over and smirked.  
“Damn. I think you look better in that than Jack - he’d better watch it or I might have you replace him.”  
“I don’t want to take his job away,” Heero protested. He really, really didn’t want to.  
Thomas smirked and shrugged again and Heero took it as a dismissal.  
Duo had said that he would have to wait at least two hours before the rendezvous and he had made it clear that Heero had to act the part during those two hours, had to maintain the cover, and that meant he actually had to work.  
Heero, who during the best of times could tactfully be called reticent, walked up to a strange man ogling him and tried to flirt.  
He tried to think - what would DUo do?  
He smirked and cocked his hip to the side.  
“You look thirsty,” he told the man, who nodded and licked his lips. “And lonely,” Heero added and the man nodded again.  
“Want some company?”  
“Hell yes.”  
It seemed too easy, but all Heero had to do was bat his false eyelashes and the man was fumbling for his wallet, ordering a bottle of vodka and three lap dances and maybe Heero felt ridiculous as he waved his ass in the man’s face and straddled his lap and arched his back, but it was the mission.  
It was the mission and if Duo could do this once a week, every week for the past two months then Heero could do it this one damn time.  
Heero was finishing up with his fourth customer when the trio of men walked into the club.  
Tall, muscular, dressed in well-worn leather jackets and projecting an air of danger that made Heero’s pulse speed up.  
One of the men looked his way, stopped, looked away and then back in a double take. His face displayed a moment of shock before his features smoothed into a bland, neutral expression.  
Heero waited until the men were seated, waited until they had started to drink and one had been dragged upstairs and then he approached, his entire focus on the man who had looked at him earlier.  
The man’s green eyes fixed on Heero as he approached, that clear gaze traveling from Heero’s boots up his body, lingering on his crotch before meeting Heero’s eyes again.  
“Hey gorgeous,” Heero greeted him.  
The man’s lips twitched and then spread into an arrogant smirk. He looked Heero over again but then glanced past him.  
“Where’s Jack?”  
Heero pouted and put his hands on his hips.  
“Why? You don’t like what you see?”  
The other man at the table laughed and slapped the green eyed man on the back.  
“Ha - listen to this whore!”  
Heero ignored him.  
“Turn around.”  
Heero smirked and complied, turning slowly and looking at the man over his shoulder.  
He arched his hips a little and ran his right hand down his side and over his ass.  
Green eyes tracked the movement.  
“Well?” Heero asked.  
“I still want to know where Jack is. He’s my regular.”  
“He’s sick. I’m his friend - Alex. I promise you’ll like me just as much as him.”  
Heero turned so that he was facing him again.  
“Or don’t you like me?”  
“Pushy thing, ain’t he?” The man’s companion muttered.  
“I like pushy,” green eyes shrugged and then smirked at Heero again. “I also like private dances.”  
Heero held up a one finger.  
“You get to look, and you can touch, but no fucking.”  
Green eyes arched an eyebrow.  
“You give head?”  
“No.”  
Green eyes shrugged.  
“Fine. This better be worth it,” he added.  
Heero held out his hand.  
“It will be, babe, don’t worry.”  
Green eyes took his hand and let Heero tug him to his feet and followed him down the hall and into one of the private Champagne Rooms.  
Heero closed the door and locked it behind him.  
“What’s your name, babe?” Heero asked the man.  
“Ilia.”  
“Mhm. Sexy name. Matches the rest of you.”  
The man smirked and allowed Heero to tug him to the center of the room and push him down onto the chair there.  
Heero trailed his hands over the man’s shoulders, eased them under his leather jacket and ran them down his chest.  
“What do you do for a living, Ilia?”  
“Very bad things,” the man said, turning his head slightly, his lips grazing against Heero’s wrist.  
Heero tried to ignore the thrill of his touch, of those firm lips, but the brief press of flesh made him ache.  
“So you’re a naughty boy, then,” Heero walked around and straddled his lap and rocked against him, not quite touching, just teasing.  
“Yes, I am.”  
“How naughty?” Heero asked and leaned close, breathing against his ear.  
He felt the man’s hands on his sides, felt his fingers trail down to his ass and tease at the thin strip of fabric between his cheeks.  
“I’ve missed you,” the man whispered, his breath hot on Heero’s neck.  
“Me too,” Heero breathed. Then he forced himself to focus. “What intel do you have?”  
The man chuckled.  
“Yakov is setting up something with that merc group from L5. They’ve got an arms deal going down in five days on M5162, at the factory Timur owns. Duo knows the one.”  
“Anything else?”  
Heero rocked against him, let himself actually rub against the man and he gripped his ass cheeks, fingers curling into the flesh and Heero gasped in pleasure.  
“Trowa -”  
“Ilia,” he interrupted Heero, his breath harsh. “I’m Ilia, Alex.”  
“Mhm. Sorry, babe. I won’t forget your name again.”  
“Good.”   
Trowa tugged at him, pulled Heero down onto his lap and Heero knew that Joe, if he was watching this feed, was likely to be unimpressed with Heero’s skills as an exotic dancer.  
Still.   
Heero hadn’t felt Trowa’s skin, his body, his breath in two months. Hadn’t been able to look into his eyes or see him smirk and he sure as hell wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity.  
“I think Erik’s ready to turn informant. Tell Duo to set something up, for next week. If we can get him to rat -”  
“You can come home.”  
Trowa nodded and then smirked, glancing down at Heero’s costume.  
“Though I’m tempted to stay where I am. I never thought I’d see you in this.” He plucked at the thong again and Heero glared.  
He pushed away and got up from Trowa’s lap.  
Heero took a few steps back and waited until Trowa’s amusement had faded and he had his full attention.  
And then he ran his hands down his body, over his flat chest and down his abs.  
“And do you like this?” Heero asked.   
He ran one hand over his groin, massaged his own cock until he could feel himself growing hard and saw Trowa lick his lips.  
Heero stepped closer to Trowa and lifted his right leg and propped the heel of his boot on the back of the chair, just beside Trowa’s right ear.  
Trowa’s eyes narrowed as Heero leaned forward and ran his fingers over his calf and up his thigh.  
“Or do you still wish I was Jack?”  
Trowa reached up to run his hands over the fishnets, to tease at Heero’s thigh just above the stockings and Heero shivered at his touch.  
It had been too long, too damn long since Trowa had touched him.  
“No,” Trowa assured him. “I don’t wish you were Jack.”  
Heero smirked and set his leg back down.  
He turned, as if to walk away, but instead he bent over and rocked his ass against Trowa’s groin, against the erection trapped in Trowa’s tight denim pants.  
Trowa groaned and his hands strayed to Heero’s hips.  
Heero continued to rock his ass against Trowa’s cock until Trowa’s breath was ragged and his fingers were digging into Heero’s hips hard enough to bruise.  
Heero had to smirk at that thought, at the knowledge that even after he left here tonight he would have those reminders, those bruises.  
He stood up and Trowa let go.  
His eyes were hooded, his face flushed, and his gaze drawn down to Heero’s hands as he eased the thong down his hips and freed his erect cock.  
Trowa licked his lips again and it sent a jolt of lust through Heero’s body.  
He stepped out of the panties and then straddled Trowa’s lap again, spreading his legs wide and gripping the back of the chair while he rocked and rolled his hips, while Trowa’s fingers teased his ass cheeks, his crack and his anus and Trowa’s hips rose up to meet him, thrusting and grinding against him until they were both moaning, until Heero felt his blood pounding in his ears and Trowa’s eyes were closed and his lips parted.  
When Trowa came it was with a low moan and a shudder, his fingers flexing on Heero’s ass and pulling him close.  
Heero waited for their breathing to even out, waited for his erection to subside.  
“Come home soon,” Heero said.  
“I will,” Trowa assured him, fingers releasing Heero.  
Heero stood up and pulled his thong back on, Trowa’s eyes on him the entire time.  
“Hope I see you here again,” Trowa said, his voice no longer a whisper.  
“Maybe,” Heero shrugged and offered him a wink. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

-o-

Heero was exhausted, jetlagged and irritable from the lack of sleep and gallons of coffee he had had to drink over the last three days as he first flew out to M5699 and then back to Brussels.   
He was all of those things as he disembarked from the shuttle and caught a taxi back to Preventers headquarters so he could file his report before collapsing in bed, but he wasn’t homicidal until he walked past Wufei’s cubicle and heard a familiar voice.  
“...said to me, ‘have you tried a wrench?’ and I swear to God, Fei, I thought I was going to lose my shit. Have I tried a wrench? What does he think I am, a fucking -oh. Hey, Heero buddy.”  
Duo was perched on Wufei’s desk, oblivious to the paperwork and to Wufei’s attempts to work on his computer, and he smirked at Heero.  
He looked healthy.  
Very, very healthy for someone who had been hospitalized three days ago.  
“What the hell are you doing here?”  
Duo had the grace to look sheepish.  
“Er… well, they must have put me on some kind of miracle drug or something because - “  
“You weren’t even sick, were you?”  
“By sick, do you mean -”  
Heero glared and Duo held up his hands.  
“It was Trowa’s idea, man. I swear. I just went along with it because both of you were driving me crazy asking about each other and -”  
“It was Trowa’s idea,” Heero repeated, trying to wrap his head around that.  
Duo nodded.  
“I mean, sort of.”  
Heero narrowed his eyes at Duo and Wufei sighed.  
“Stop,” Wufei muttered to Duo, “you’re making it worse.”  
Duo sighed.  
“He said it as a joke, well, kind of as a joke. But the sort of joke that’s really him wishing it could happen and I figured…”  
Heero turned to Wufei.  
“You were in on this too, weren’t you?”  
“What? No. I absolutely -”  
Heero threw the duffel bag at Wufei’s chest and smirked when it winded him.  
“You were just as much a part of this as Duo.”  
Wufei glared at the braided man.  
Duo arched an eyebrow and Wufei sighed.  
“Yes. Fine. I was in on it.”  
Heero nodded.  
He looked between them, waited until he knew they were both feeling anxious, both remembering past occasions when he had been pissed at them.  
“It was good to see him again.”  
Duo grinned, his face almost splitting.  
“See! I knew you’d -”  
Heero held up a hand. and Duo instantly stopped talking.  
“If you ever tell anyone what I had to wear, I will spend every minute of every day making sure that every single Preventer agent knows about what happened to you in Madrid.”  
Duo’s eyes narrowed.  
“You wouldn’t.”  
“Oh, I absolutely would.”  
They glared at each other for a long moment and then Duo crossed his arms and looked away.  
“You’re such an uptight bastard,” he muttered. “I’m not going to tell anyone about your blue satin -”  
“Duo. Does Wufei know what happened in Madrid?”  
“I’m shutting up. Right now.”  
But Wufei arched an eyebrow.  
“What happened in Madrid?”  
Heero smirked and walked away, the sounds of Wufei and Duo bickering floating down the hall after him.


End file.
